


Don’t Walk Away

by jenelleman



Series: Don’t Walk Away Universe [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Derek Hale - Freeform, M/M, Teen Wolf, scira - Freeform, scott McCall - Freeform, sterek, stiles stilinski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-06 15:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12213240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenelleman/pseuds/jenelleman
Summary: 5 times Derek lets Stiles walk away and one time he doesn’t.





	1. The First Time

When Derek first sees Stiles again, three years have passed between them, and he can’t breathe.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, except he’s not in a room. He’s in the middle of a busy street in Los Angeles.

He hears Cora’s voice in his head, _just go talk to him_. And he tries, really, he does. He tries to put one foot in front of the other and make his way over to him.

But so much has passed between them, too many years, too many unanswered calls and texts, too many unsaid _I’m sorry’s_ and _I love you’s_. So his feet stay planted right where they are.

He watches Stiles from afar instead. Watches the way he throws his head back in laughter, as he sips from his glass of water. He admires the fact that he has clearly forgotten what a barber shop is as his hair falls messily into his eyes. He thinks that Stiles would look good, no matter what.

He takes note of the way his face lights up when the waiter finally brings out their food and how he waste no time digging right in. His companions, a couple Derek doesn’t immediately recognize, shake their head at his behavior.

He’s trying not to zone in on their conversation, and he thinks he’s shown a great deal of restraint thus far. But when Stiles’ face dons a look of concern, his curiosity gets the better of him.

“What does he mean she’s hurt?”

“The message said that she fell off the back of the couch, I don’t know Stiles. I’m sure Leia is fine,” the one he eventually recognizes as Liam says, letting out a sigh.

Derek notices the way Stiles nose scrunches up, a clear sign he is not pleased. “Ugh, I can’t believe he told you not to tell me. That is my child!”

“She’s a cat,” the other mumbles. Theo? He thinks, he’s not really sure.

“My child!” The pair snort at his dramatics, but choose not to fight him any further on the matter.

Suddenly a voice speaks up from beside him, and he very suddenly remembers he’s not alone. “Stalking is illegal you know.”

“Shut up Isaac. I’m not stalking, I’m just..” Derek trails off, not sure what to call it.

“Stalking?” Isaac supplies, a grin lighting up his features. Derek groans, shoving Isaac away.

“Observing,” he snarls, and Isaac raises his hands in surrender.

He can feel the smart remark on the edge of Isaac’s tongue but it’s cut off by the overwhelming sense of anxiety. It’s almost crippling, and he knows Isaac can feel it too.

He knows this feeling all too well, and knows what it means. Isaac seems to be on the same page as he simply utters _shit_ under his breath. Derek doesn’t have to glance back over at Stiles to know that Stiles is staring at him.

He can hear Stiles’ shallow breathing and his accelerated heartbeat. He wonders after all this time, how he is still so in tune with Stiles’ emotions.

It feels like the world around him has stopped, even as people keep moving right in front of him.

He hears Liam and Theo jump into immediate action, asking what was wrong. He could hear Liam calling Scott and finally Scott answering and telling them to distract him.

Liam handed the phone to Theo and Scott begins pestering him with questions, all with the same answer; _I don’t know._ Liam works hard to distract Stiles, but Derek still feel Stiles’ eyes burning into him.

Isaac is trying to get Derek to leave, but he is frozen in place.

Finally, _finally_ , Liam follows Stiles’ gaze and lands upon Derek. A small _fuck_ falls from his lips and Theo zones in on the problem at hand.

Derek can hear Scott’s string of profanities clearly across the crowded street as he tells them to get Stiles out of there.

Derek doesn’t know why they’re all concerned, really. But he can imagine. He can imagine how broken Stiles was after..after everything. He can just imagine the complete and utter mess he left behind simply because he couldn’t deal.

He hears Isaac call him an idiot as he gives up on trying to make him leave.

Suddenly everything goes quiet and Derek’s eyes search frantically for Stiles. Liam and Theo seem to be frozen in place as they watch Stiles march across the busy street. Derek can feel his own heart accelerating, he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Sooner than he expected Stiles is standing in front of him, his face completely blank. His heartbeat had evened out. His breath was coming out in even beats and there was no longer any sign that Stiles was affected by Derek’s presence.

He notices the scar under Stiles’ eye, and how he is leaning heavier to his left side than his right. He could see the mark on his chest just peeking out of his shirt. They were just small, small, infinitesimal, scars, reminders of all the things he has lost.

Derek is waiting for Stiles to speak, to say something, to say anything.

“I fucking hate you Derek Hale.”

Suddenly Stiles is swarmed by people and Derek can’t help but wonder how they all got there so fast. Were they waiting on standby? Was it a plan set in motion they practiced? Like evacuations for fires and tsunamis and tornadoes? Were they all ready and trained to take off in a sprint to Stiles at the mere mention of Derek.

Malia is eyeing Derek, and he can see the fight in her eyes. Derek is family, real blood related family. But then her eyes flash to Stiles and Derek knows that Stiles is family too, more family than he is. Stiles is the first person Malia ever trusted when she became human again. The first person she ever loved.

He hears a low growl and his eyes land on Scott who stands, fangs out, shown for Derek’s viewing pleasure. Kira is stands behind Scott, arms linked with Allison.

Lydia is by Stiles side, arms embracing him, holding him steady. Liam and Theo stand on the other side of Scott, glares etched into their faces.

Isaac ask if he should call Boyd and Erica but Derek just waved him off.

“McCall’s pack isn’t going to attack us. At least not you.”

Isaac let off a low growl to match Scott’s, and Derek wonders how they got here. How he left and ended up with Isaac who had sworn loyalty to Scott. Boyd and Erica, he understood. They were always on Derek’s side. He doesn’t know why Isaac left them all, left Allison, to be with him.

“We just came to get Stiles,” Lydia’s voice was soft as she spoke. “Everyone go wait somewhere else, we’ll find you when he’s ready.”

Lydia grimaced and Derek found his eyes drawn to Stiles fingers squeezing the life out of her arm. Nobody moved, eyes trained on Derek, filled with a kind of disgust and hate he’d never seen before.

“Go,” Lydia’s voice boomed, making them all jump into action and scaring people nearby and Isaac. Scott let out another growl and Lydia pushed with her foot- so he kicked him, yeah, she kicked him away.

“Stiles,” Derek tried, his voice laced with a desperation he wasn’t used to feeling. He tried to say more when Stiles didn’t stop him, but no other words would form.

Loss is a funny thing, it doesn’t happen all at once in chronological order. You don’t feel it once, and then move on. It happens every single day.

Anytime you see something that reminds you, anything that makes you think of them. The fresh cut grass on your neighbor's lawn, a cup of black coffee. Your own fucking scent, a scent that used to be laced with theirs. Leather and anger mixed with cotton and anxiety, breeding it’s own form of happiness.

You feel it when they are standing right in front of you. You feel it when they look right through you, right past all your pain and sorrow and regret and all they see is the person who left them crying in a hospital room.

Derek aches to reach out to him, to touch him. He is there, when Derek never thought he would be again.

“I love you,” the words are out of his mouth before he has time to even register them.

And then Stiles is in his arms, except it’s different? His fist are slamming into Derek’s chest, leaving no lasting damage. This only proves to make him angrier and his fist pick up their pace.

He reeks of despair and anger and something else, something Derek can’t place.

People have stopped now, taking in the mess before them. Some think it’s performance art, they start clapping.

And Derek laughs, no trace of humor in his voice. Two hearts are breaking for each other all over again and people are _clapping_.

Eventually Stiles tires himself out and his assault slows steadily until he has no more energy.

“I hate you,” he repeats, no trace of actual hate in his voice. Just complete and utter heartbreak.

“I know.”

Stiles nods and turns to Lydia who places a hand on the small of his back and gently guides him to where his pack, his family, wait for him.

Isaac is on Derek in seconds, but he feels distant. Like he’s not really there. He barely feels Isaac tugging on him, dragging him from his spot. It’s not until they topple into the ground does Derek register what was happening.

“Are you okay,” Isaac is saying it like this is his fifth time repeating it, and maybe it is.

“I.. yeah I’m fine,” Derek is examining himself, no cuts that are already healing themselves. He feels Isaac’s hand on his shoulder and stops his movements.

“Derek, are you _okay_?” The emphasis he puts on the word _okay_ makes Derek shudder. Isaac has them both back on their feet in seconds and he does his best to steady a wobbling Derek.

Once Derek feels more steady on his feet he shakes Isaac off, “I said, I’m fine.”

Isaac scoffs, “Yeah, Okay. You forget I was there last time.”

Derek levels Isaac with a look that would normally send him scouring away in defeat. This time, Isaac just rolls his eyes.

“I can smell how upset you are, and not at me Derek.”

Derek lets out a growl, low enough for only Isaac to hear. Isaac sighs in annoyance and grabs Derek’s arm.

“Come on mister macho man, Erica and Boyd are waiting for us.”

Derek grudging allows Isaac to pull them along to where Erica and Boyd awaited them.

“What took you guys so long? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour,” Erica grumbled.

“We had a little run in with..” Isaac gets cut off by Erica’s frantic voice.

“What? Why didn’t you say so? We could’ve helped you defeat whatever it is! Ugh you two need to stop running off to save the day by yourselves!”

“Woah woah woah Erica slow down,” Derek’s voice is calm and Erica’s heart rate instantly slows down. “It wasn’t some great evil we had to fight off.”

Derek stops his explanation, looming away. He knows the real reason will send Erica flying into a fit ten times worse than the one she just had.

Isaac watched as Derek took a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself for the way acknowledging it would feel.

“I ran into Stiles.”

Erica is at Derek’s side before he can blink, “What the hell do you mean you ran into Stiles?”

“He means he was watching him from across the street and then after about ten minutes Stiles finally noticed him. Let me just say that it did not end well at all.”

Derek shot Isaac a glare, and then glanced back over at Erica.

“I mean yeah it could’ve gone better.”

There was a low growl emitting from Erica and Boyd placed his hand on her knee and gave it a light squeeze.

“Erica I’m _fine_.” Derek was getting real tired of having to explain that he was fine. That seeing Stiles again had no affect on him whatsoever.

None, at all.

“Can we just get to the reason we’re here?”

Erica sighed, but knew not to push Derek. She doesn’t know what happened exactly, only Isaac was there that night. But she knows that it hurt Derek to leave like he did.

“Fine,” she directed their attentions to the table filled with dozens of cake samples. “You guys are here to help us decide on a wedding cake.”

“Joy,” Derek mutters, but obliged as Erica shoved a cake into his hands.

After a couple of hours Derek is full, and Erica and Boyd still haven’t decided on a cake.

“Look I’m full, so I’m going to go, I’m sure whichever one you pick will be fine.”

Derek was gone before Erica could protest, not that she was planning on it. He could’ve at least stuck around for a goodbye.

Derek could smell Erica’s anger as he stalked out of the bakery, but he had spent enough time socializing and was exhausted.

He was ready to grab a beer and relax on his couch. As he approaches his house he can hear a heart beating fast and he could smell nervousness in the air.

As his front porch came into view, he stopped short. His breath got caught in his throat.

Stiles rose to his feet, a grimace on his face. Derek didn’t let himself wonder how Stiles knew where he lived, didn’t want to let himself think of what that might mean. Because of Stiles knew where he lived, that mean he asked about Derek, and Derek didn’t know if he could deal with that fact yet.

“Come to beat me up some more?”

Stiles had the good sense to look ashamed at his earlier actions, and Derek smelled the apology on the edge of his lips.

“I uh, yeah. I actually came to apologize about that.”

Derek walked forward, past Stiles, and plopped himself down onto an open chair. He motioned for Stiles to follow suit. Once Stiles was seated Derek let out the breath he had been holding since he saw him sitting on his front porch.

“You have nothing to apologize for Stiles.”

“I shouldn’t of attacked you like that.”

Derek just shrugged his shoulders, he didn’t blame Stiles.

“I’m fine Stiles.”

“I just didn’t expect to see you again.. like ever.”

Derek nods, he knows this. He walked away from Stiles, from Scott, from Beacon Hills, from everything.

“I got your address from Isaac. Well I had Allison get it from him. They still talk,” Stiles rambled on.

“Stiles,” Derek tried to get his attention. “Stiles. I don’t care.”

“Oh,” Stiles cheeks were bright reed. He stood up, stuttering over his words. “I Uh.. I mean yeah… I mean of course.. yeah no definitely.. I mean.. oh.”

His rant ended when Derek pulled down onto his lap.

“Stiles, I didn’t mean that I don’t care that you’re here or whatever it was that you were thinking. I just meant that.. I don’t care how you got my address. It doesn’t matter.”

Derek knew that was a lie; it did matter. It meant that Stiles had asked about him.

“Yeah, right. Okay. Well I did what I came to do so I’ll just be on my way.”

“Stiles,” it’s the tone of his voice, a silent plea. Stiles knows that Derek is asking him to stay.

He shoves himself off of Derek’s lap so fast Derek doesn’t have time to react, to try to stop him.

“No, no Derek I can’t,” Stiles pulls in a shaky breath. “I wasn’t.. I’m not ready to forgive you and I sure as hell wasn't ready to see you. But I shouldn’t of snapped like that so I just wanted to apologize.”

Derek is on his feet now, reaching out to Stiles, as if reaching between them would fix the rift that separates them.

“Derek,” Stiles voice is desperate and Derek can smell everything he is feeling. He’s feeling it all so much, and all at once. “You can’t just say you love me after three years of radio silence! You don’t just get to waltz back into my life and act like nothing ever happened! Like you didn’t completely shatter me when I was already broken. God Derek I _needed_ you.”

“Stiles you need to breathe,” Derek could hear his heartbeat picking up, rising to fast. He knew if he didn’t stop it Stiles would have a panic attack right here on his front steps.

“I need to get out of here,” Stiles is shaking his head. “I shouldn’t of come here. I’m sorry Derek.”

Stiles is off of his porch and in his Jeep before Derek can make his body react. And he’s pissdd at himself, he’s a wolf, where are his fast reactions at when he needs them? Why wasn’t he able to move, to stop Stiles from leaving?

“Stiles,” he calls weakly, but he’s already gone.


	2. Aisle Nine

Stiles is standing alone, holding two tubs of ice cream in his hands looking utterly lost. Derek contemplated just leaving the store entirely, wanting to give Stiles whatever time or space he needed.

Erica called him an idiot, burning it into his brain that there was nothing to wait for. _Stiles doesn’t want you anymore Derek, you saw to that._ It was harsh but she was just trying to be honest.

Derek was startled out of his thoughts when he heard Stiles’ voice. “Are you just going to stand there?”

Derek cleared his throat, “Can’t decide between Rocky Road and Pistachio? It is a tough choice.”

“I’m supposed to get both. Lydia left a list,” he muttered, gesturing to the paper laying haphazardly across the cart full of groceries.

Derek hums an acknowledgment, “what’s the hold up then?”

Stiles shrugged, a sheepish look passing across his face. “Every time I set them on the cart, they just fall over.”

Derek eyed the mountain of precariously balanced groceries and a sigh fell off of his lips.

“You never were great at organization,” Derek can feel Stiles glare immediately. “I just mean that..”

“I know what you meant,” Stiles snapped at him.

Despite the anger radiating off of him Stiles says nothing as Derek begins to rearrange his cart. He just stands there, arms crossed, and for the first time ever Derek can’t smell out what he’s feeling. It’s as if he’s just shut himself down completely.

This complete and utter lack of emotion radiating off of him lets him just smell Stiles himself. The scent coming off of him is so unfamiliar to him he has to make sure it’s actually Stiles standing there.

Stiles used to smell like pack, like family. He used to smell of Derek and Scott and Lydia and Malia and Isaac and just _pack_. He doesn’t even smell the familiar scent of his fresh cotton laundry detergent that always used to seep quietly through all the other smells.

Derek doesn’t understand because Stiles still has pack, has Scott and Lydia and Allison and Kira and Malia and _pack_. So why wasn’t he smelling any of them on him?

Derek doesn’t realize his hands were still working to fix the mess of the cart until he is grabbing the ice cream out of Stiles’ hand. He hears Stiles quiet thanks as he moves around Derek, careful not to touch him.

“Stiles I,” he calls out, not entirely sure where his brain was trying to go with that. Stiles hasn’t moved from his spot, back turned towards Derek.

“You don’t smell them on me anymore because I _died_ Derek.”

Derek sputters, his heartbeat speeding up because _what the fuck._

He hears Stiles backpedaling, trying to starts over. “Wait no.. that’s not right.” But Derek isn’t paying attention because _what the fuck_. He can’t seem to form any other thought because no way, _no fucking way_ that Stiles fucking died and no one told him.

“No okay Derek I died, I was dead and you weren't there.” Derek’s mind is reeling because _no fucking way._ “They brought me back Derek. I’m fine now.”

Derek reaches out to touch Stiles and takes comfort in him being physically there. “We are still pack but it smells different now Derek.”

Derek can see it in Stiles’ eyes, he is trying to convey something in his words without actually speaking the words out loud.

He doesn’t get it though, why, _why_ , do they smell different now?

“Derek you didn’t say a fucking word and I still knew you were there.” Honestly Derek hadn’t even thought about it, just assumed that he saw him standing there out of the corner of his eye.

But suddenly, and uncomfortably, it clicks. He doesn’t smell right, doesn’t smell like Stiles because he isn’t smelling Stiles the human he is smelling Stiles the wolf. And all the things that were so familiar on him now smell so different.

“I.. uh..what?” Derek stutters out lamely, his eyes searching for any other indicators of the transformation.

“Uh short version, you left, I died, Scott sorta went crazy, and I ended up a werewolf.”

“But _how_? You were _dead_ ,” he chokes on the word, unable to associate it with the boy in front of him.

“Yeah no, that’s one mystery no one could figure out. I was dead but somehow the bite still took.”

Stiles watched Derek flail around for a few more minutes before a polite smile overcame his features. “I Uh, gotta finish my grocery shopping.”

Stiles feels Derek’s hands on his back and he stills. Derek doesn’t know why he’s touching Stiles, only that he saw him walking away and his body was reacting before his brain could catch up.

“Derek I’m going to have to ask you to remove your hands from my back,” Stiles voice is laced with an anger that Derek recognizes almost fondly.

But it strikes him as odd coming from Stiles. Derek wonders when he became the one who was so open, and when Stiles became so closed off and angry.

But then Derek guesses he doesn’t have to wonder when, he guesses it was probably somewhere around the time he buried his dad and Derek walked out on the pack.

“Stiles can I ask you a question?”

Stiles nods his head yes, but Derek can smell the annoyance boiling up inside of him. He had just wanted to come to the store for some peace, yet here he was, stuck talking to an almost.

Derek was an almost, a what could’ve been, what should’ve been. Stiles sucks in a breath at the thought, all this goddamn heartbreak and anger between them because of an almost.

“I know you’re still pissed at me and everything but I said I love you and you’re standing here still unaffected like you don’t care anymore.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” Stiles turns to face Derek, one eyebrow raised over the other.

“Yeah asshole, why?”

Stiles let out a huff of air that could’ve been a laugh but Derek wasn’t really sure.

“I waited for you to come back Derek,” Stiles voice is shaky for the first time since this encounter began. Derek wants to reach out in an attempt to steady him, but doesn’t want to scare him into silence so he keeps his hands to himself.

“I waited for a whole year and then I realized that you _probably_ weren’t coming back, and then I sent Isaac after you. I had just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Stiles lets out another huff of air that resembles a laugh. “And you _were_ , oh my god Derek. You were _happy_.”

He remembers when Isaac showed up on his doorstep, grin in place, with no explanation. Cora hit Derek upside the head and opened the door to let Isaac in. Derek had been happy, he hadn’t felt as lost as he had in Beacon Hills.

“You were never my anything Derek, we were barely friends. But my dad freaking died and I told you I loved you and you were gone. I know you never owed me anything, that you were never anything to me but I waited on you and you were happy.”

Stiles breathing is shallow, and Derek smells the familiar scent of anxiety.

“It took me a long time to realize that I was holding on to something that didn’t exist,” Stiles gestures into empty air. “I was sitting around missing this person that didn’t exist, not anymore. Not for me. Look Derek, people change. The things we like and dislike change. People just change, and we can wish all day that they didn’t but they always will.”

Stiles lets the words settle between them before he speaks again.

“You don’t love me Derek. Maybe you did, back then. And maybe it scared the shit out of you so you ran. But you don’t love me Derek, you don’t even know me. Not anymore.”

Derek wants to argue, wants to say that he’s still Derek and that Stiles is still Stiles. But he knows that’s not true. He’s not the same brooding mess that he was when Stiles was in high school, and Stiles.. Derek can’t even begin to count the ways that Stiles has changed.

So he says nothing as Stiles leaves him standing alone in aisle nine of the grocery store.


	3. Excuses

Isaac and Derek are still fighting a week after Derek confronts Isaac about Stiles being a wolf. Derek could feel the anger in his bones when Isaac looks at him, an equal amount of fire in his eyes and says, “Dude it wasn’t any of your business.”

Derek nearly shoved him through a wall because _goddammit_ Stiles was his business. Isaac was still yelling at Derek, yelling about how he left and that was his choice. Yelling about how broken Stiles was, how Isaac had never seen him like that before.

Yelling about how Scott was clueless at what to do, yelling about him abandoning his pack. Yelling about that being the moment Stiles stopped being his business. Yelling about how it was his fault Stiles killed himself.

And the whole world freezes for Derek because when Stiles said he had died, he imagined him being killed by some supernatural creature or caught in the crossfire of hunters bullets flying through the air.

Never, in a million fucking years would he have imagined Stiles killing himself.

“He had lost everything Derek. He was _alone_.”

“He had you guys.”

“He didn’t want us Derek, he wanted you! And you ran out on him!”

And Derek supposed this blow up had been a long time coming for Isaac as he watched Isaac anchor himself. Isaac shoved Derek so hard he almost fell over, said, with so much venom in his voice Derek actually shuddered, “You didn’t deserve to know anything about Stiles.”

So a week later when Isaac stands on his front porch with Stiles at his heels Derek almost throws up. Erica is standing in the doorway and Derek can make out the sound of happy chatter through the buzzing in his ears.

When Cora rounds the corner and finds her brother frozen in his spot she almost laughs. Because this situation is laughable. Derek and Isaac have been avoiding each other all week and now Isaac had made the first move and Derek is terrified. And Derek being absolutely terrified of his beta and someone who wasn’t quite an ex was absolutely laughable.

“Uh Derek, you okay man?” Stiles voice cuts through to Derek, but he doesn’t move, just nods. Isaac is watching him, warily. The anger had started to fade from him, replacing itself with disappointment.

“Isaac was just helping me with a case,” Stiles continues when Derek doesn’t move. “He uh said that you might have something helpful in your library.”

Derek’s eyes slide over to Isaac who gives a halfhearted shrug, “I didn’t know you’d be home.”

It’s the first thing he’s said to Derek in six days. Derek feels the air in the room release itself, as if it were physically letting go of the tension that has surrounded them all week.

“I’ll go find the book for you,” Isaac mutters, shoving past Derek with a not too subtle warning growl. Cora is suddenly nowhere to be found and Stiles just plops himself down on Derek’s couch like he owns the place.

And Derek’s heart kind of catches in his chest at the sight of Stiles sitting so casually in his living room. He moves, finally, just a couple of feet, so he can have a better view of Stiles.

He tries to start off with a casual ‘hi’, what comes out instead is an overly accusatory, “You killed yourself.”

Stiles just nods, not at all surprised by what comes out of his mouth. Which Derek finds ironic because _he’s_ surprised by what came out of his own mouth and Stiles just takes it in fucking strides.

“Well tried to kill myself, I’m still alive as you can see,” Stiles winks at Derek.

Derek lets his heart flutter for only a second because holy hell Stiles just _winked_ at him. But then the flutter is replaced by a subtle rage at Stiles casualness about his suicide.

“ _Why_?” Derek just has to know, he can’t wonder anymore how someone so full of life can just be willing to give it up.

“Not this again,” Stiles groans and Derek feels his hand shaking against his leg. “I wanted an out for all the pain I was feeling Derek, okay?”

Derek just nods, not really satisfied with his answer, but when Stiles’ eyes flash blue Derek figures he should probably back off.

There’s a beat, just one, where Derek hears Stiles’ heart falter. Derek looks over to see a look on Stiles’ face that tells him he’s having a silent war with himself.

Suddenly Stiles is speaking again and Derek can hear his heart racing as he begins. “I never asked for this, never asked for _you_. Yet you showed up in my life and when I wanted to leave, you didn’t. You stuck around and you fought off every imaginable evil we faced.”

Derek watched as Stiles stood up and Started pacing in front of the couch he previously occupied. He doesn’t let himself think about how cute he looks as he runs a hand through his hair.

“We hated each other, sure as hell didn’t trust each other, but you were always _there_. When Peter wanted to kill us all, you stopped him, every time. You helped us save Jackson, and you were there for Lydia when she found out just what she was. You helped me when… god through all the nogitsune shit Derek, you were there. We hated each other, but you were there.”

Stiles was waving his arms around wildly trying to emphasize his point. Derek winced as he almost knocked over a vase. Stiles paid no attention to the mess he almost caused and just kept going.

“God Derek, you came into my life and wouldn’t leave and then you actually started to matter. We formed one pack, together. All of us. And you mattered Derek, you mattered to the pack and you mattered to me,” Stiles stopped pacing, and locked his eyes with Derek's. “You were important to us, to me. And I thought you knew that, thought you could feel that. But then everything went to shit and all I wanted was you and at the time I was just like _fuck_ because we were still pretending we didn’t mean more to each other. We were ignoring lingering touches, ignoring drunken kisses when the rest of the pack was gone. We were ignoring it all.”

Derek doesn’t know when Stiles moved to him, but suddenly they were mere inches apart.

“We were more Derek, and everything fell apart and I fucking needed you. You just walked out, said something about needing time, and you walked out and you left this hole in my chest where my heart was supposed to be.”

Stiles isn’t crying but Derek can smell the salt on him as the tears well up in his eyes. Derek reaches out to him, wanting to close the gap that Stiles left between them. Derek’s hand makes it no further than a centimeter off  
of his lap and Stiles is recoiling from him. Stiles smells the hurt on Derek at his actions but he just _can’t_.

Stiles is still broken from Derek three years ago, still trying to figure out how to weave the pieces of himself back together. Trying to figure out to live without his heart ( _it takes Melissa showing him an X-ray of his chest, pointing to his heart, to convince him it’s actually still there_ ).

Stiles finds his way back to the couch, falling into it for support. He recognizes the way Derek is looking at him, because it’s the way he used to look at him when he would shake Derek’s hand off of his shoulder, or when he would stand as far away from him as he could in Deaton's tiny clinic.

And Stiles lets out a laugh, because after all of this it’s just so fucking funny that it was Stiles who never wanted anyone to know about them.

Derek eyes Stiles, his brows furrowed. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything, to ask Stiles _what the hell_ had just happened.

“Ah, here’s your book,” Isaac looks between the pair, eyes settling on Derek who just shrugs. Isaac's appearance seemed to have sobered Stiles up some.

He lets out one last huff of air as he stands, taking the book from Isaac's hand. “Thanks man.”

“Anything else you need?”

Stiles shakes his head, “I should get going. Gotta go defeat a jinn.”

Isaac walks him to the door and Derek swears he can hear him say, “You know if you want to see him that bad you don’t have to pretend you need something. You can just say so.”

Okay Derek _knows_ that’s what Isaac says but it’s Stiles’, “Shut up idiot he can hear you,” that really makes him smile.


	4. Damage that stays

Derek shuffled his feet on the unfamiliar front porch as he waited for someone to open the door.

After a few minutes a reluctant Stiles steps out, an annoyed look already plastered across his features.

“What the fuck Derek?” And okay maybe Derek should’ve expected this reaction but he flinches at Stiles’ tone anyway.

“I uh got your address from Isaac,” Derek’s voice is cautious.

“Fucking Isaac.”

Derek watches as Stiles shoves a hand through his hair, he could practically hear the inner dialogue as he rocked on the balls of his feet. He eventually just levels Derek with a stare and mutters out a, “What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could talk? I don’t know,” it’s Derek’s turn to shove his hands through his hair, and that’s still not enough to calm him so he rubs them over his face. “Fuck Stiles I just want things to be okay again. Like before.”

This sends Stiles flying forward shoving a hand against Derek’s chest and his eyes are flashing blue again and fuck Derek can’t think because Stiles’ eyes shouldn’t be blue, it wasn’t him, he didn’t kill anybody. But then he remembers that Stiles’ eyes are glowing and maybe now isn’t the time to zone out. He makes himself zone back into whatever Stiles is saying just in time for Stiles to yell, “things will never be like before,” and shove Derek off the porch.

And Derek just kind of stands there, more than a little shocked because _what just happened_ but then Stiles is in front of him again and his eyes are glowing and his fangs are out and Derek needs to de-escalate this situation and fast.

“Stiles.. Stiles just listen to me okay? I know that. Okay? I fucked up, I fucked it all up. That’s all on me? Okay?” And that seems to work a little because at least Stiles isn’t in his face anymore and then his legs just give out because _fuck_ Stiles had been ready to rip his throat out.

Stiles takes a breath and he’s speaking again, noticeably more calm, and also without the fangs and glowing eyes. So yeah, that’s, that’s good.

“I uh.. there’s no need to be afraid of me Derek, I have pretty good control.”

Derek voice sounds a lot more unsteady than he would like it to when he ask, “Pretty good?”

The roll of Stiles’ eyes is perfectly in tune with the heavy sigh he lets fall off of his lips. “I’ve been a werewolf for almost three years Derek. I have enough control and just, I don’t know common sense, not to rip your throat out.”

And right of course he does, because he’s had years of practice and he’s Stiles. And Stiles was always good about control ever since.. Derek shakes his head, trying to physically shake the thought out of his head.

“Right yeah no. Got it, control, it’s totally your thing.”

And almost as if to prove a point, or maybe just to spite Derek a little bit Stiles draws his fags back out, a low growl emitting itself from somewhere inside of him.

“Okay that’s not necessary Stiles,” at this point Derek is just exhausted. He keeps trying and pushing and maybe it’s just too much.

Maybe he is asking too much, expecting too much, maybe he just needs to back off. He lets out a frustrated groan because he has no clue what to do. He just wants to fix things with Stiles, and Scott and with the pack.

Because yeah he has Cora and Isaac and Boyd and Erica and they tend to listen to him and they are a pack in their own way but Derek isn’t an Alpha.

And while Derek doesn’t know if he’ll ever be willing to defer to Scott he doesn’t want to deny the others a chance of having a real pack with real pack structure because of his fuck up.

So yeah, he’s frustrated, at himself. And so yeah, he’s surprised when his frustration sends Stiles reeling again.

“You have no right to sit there and be frustrated with me!”

“Stiles I.. I’m not,” Derek tries to explain but Stiles just scoffs at him before he’s speaking again effectively cutting off anything Derek was about to say.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to just keep showing up and expecting me to act like everything's okay! I really thought I had forgiven you Derek and you hadn’t even apologized. Hadn’t said anything to anyone of us in three years,” the anger in Stiles chemo signals elevate and Stiles eyes flash blue for just a second before he gets it back under control.

“When you left Derek, it _hurt_. But it didn’t just hurt me it hurt the pack,” and Stiles is gesturing wildly to the house and yeah Derek knows that he really fucked up and was getting tired of Stiles reminding him. “I.. you took Erica and Boyd with you, which okay they were always more yours than Scott’s anyway but still. We all went back to your loft and you were all just _gone_ and then Cora texted me-“

“Cora texted you?” Derek couldn’t keep himself from interrupting Stiles’ rant because he did not know that. Though Stiles pushes on as if he hadn’t even heard Derek.

“- and all her stupid message said was _Derek’s here?_ With a goddamn question mark like I would have any answers. And I didn’t even bother answering her because honestly all I would’ve said is fuck you. But I digress. Scott lost someone he looked to for guidance, someone he trusted, they all did. And I forgave you for hurting me but it’s not my place to forgive you for hurting them.”

“I, yeah no I get that,” Derek is running his hands through his hair again because he’s tired of always being such a fuck up.

“And you can’t come back here and keep pretending like you didn’t break something in all of us Derek.”

Derek tries to nod, to show he agrees with Stiles but his head suddenly feels so heavy from all the guilt.

“When someone tells you that you’ve hurt them you don’t get to ignore them and go on living life pretending that you didn’t. You don’t get to decide other people’s pain for them.”

“I _know_ that,” Derek’s voice is kind of shaky as it stumbles out of his mouth and Stiles just levels him with a look that’s not quite a glare.

And that’s progress, Derek thinks.

But then Stiles is asking him a question and Derek knows the answer is going to send him spiraling again and so Derek just takes a moment longer to appreciate the not glare in Stiles eyes as as he speaks.

“Why,” he chokes on the word at first, and that tells Derek this is going to be a hard question. “Why didn’t you ever call? Or even make a once a year visit, you know, as if to just say ‘hey I’m still alive’?”

Derek takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders as he answers, because yes he knows his answer is stupid and irrational but Derek knows he can be these things when it comes to feeling and so sue him.

“I.. because I,” He is stumbling over his words, which he shouldn’t be doing because he knows the answer, yet he is loathe to ruin the not glare on Stiles’ face. Taking a deep breath he starts again. “I _knew_ I had fucked up Stiles. I had fucked up with you and with Scott and with the whole damn pack, I knew that. And at first I stayed away because I just wanted to forget it all, to pretend it hadn’t happened. To pretend I didn’t fuck everything up. I-“

Stiles cuts him off again and his voice actually causes Derek to shrink back into himself.

“Pretending like it never happened doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen!”

Derek opens his mouth, wants to tell Stiles that he _knows_ that, but Stiles pushes forward leaving no space for Derek to insert himself.

“And god Derek, maybe you actually did forget about it, or maybe you’re just really good at acting but fuck Derek,” and Stiles takes a breath then and Derek wants to tell him that he didn’t forget but before he can form the words Stiles is speaking again. “I can never forget what happened.”

Stiles is shaking and he falls against the door. Derek opens his mouth to speak, but seeing Stiles so broken, again, has him unable to function

“Because fuck Derek,” Stiles is speaking again but he doesn’t sound right, he sounds off. “There’s damage that you can reverse and there’s damage that fucking stays.”

And Stiles is actually crying and Derek kind of loses the ability to hold himself up because he did that.

“And I am up to my fucking eyeballs in damage that stays Derek,” Stiles lets himself fall to the ground as he tries to stop himself from shaking. “And what you did, it changed me Derek, it fucking changed us and it changed what we had, what we were or at least, whatever the hell we could’ve been.”

Derek _knows_ that, he fucking knows that and he wants to fix it. Except he’s not entirely sure there is a way to fix it. Stiles is speaking again and Derek’s heart is doing unhealthy things in his chest because _fuck_ he loves Stiles but everything is just too fucked up. He’s too fucked up.

“And just because we’re sort of talking again, just because I came to your house or talked to you in the grocery store and fuck,” and he can tell Stiles is trying not to dissolve right there in front of him. “You have absolutely no fucking right to think that it’ll ever go back to what it was before.”

And Derek knows that, rationally he knows he can’t fix it, so he just sort of lets out a hum of acknowledgement.

Stiles is on his feet again and Derek mimics his actions, and why the fuck did he do that? He can smell Scott, standing just behind the door, waiting for any indication from Stiles.

Stiles lets out a breath of air as he tries to figure out what to say next. He eventually just settles for, “you should go Derek.”

He turns and walks inside the house and Derek tries to pretend he doesn’t hear him break down on the other side.

 


	5. I can’t yell at you

“I didn’t forget,” Stiles shows no surprise as Derek speaks and Derek has to remind himself that he probably heard him approach. “I couldn’t forget. Not about what I did, and not about what I left behind Stiles.”

He sees Stiles nodding slowly, but he doesn’t say anything. He gives no other indication that he knew Derek was there. His unwavering silence was making Derek uneasy because Stiles was never this quiet.

Almost as if Stiles could read his mind he was speaking, so softly Derek almost didn’t hear him.

“If you’re waiting for me to yell at you Derek you’re going to be waiting a long time.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just moves to the swing next to him. Stiles is slowly pushing himself back and forth, not actually gaining any speed.

“I just can’t yell at you anymore Derek.”

“So don’t yell at me.”

Stiles brings himself to a stop, lightly kicking at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “But I’m still just so angry with you Derek.”

“So be angry.”

“When I first saw you standing there, stalking me-“

“I was not stalking you.”

“- the only thing I could think of was that Christmas where Peter broke the door to the loft,” Stiles continued on like Derek hadn’t said anything. “He was scared and anxious and angry because I’m pretty sure angry is his default setting. But anyway he was feeling all those things because it was the first real Christmas he was spending with Malia and then when he went to answer the door he ripped it right off it’s hinges.”

“I remember Stiles, I was there,” Derek couldn’t help the way his lips quirked upwards at the memory. “Why that particular memory though?”

“Because I saw you and I felt scared and anxious and angry and I felt like I could rip you off your hinges.”

“I don’t have any hinges.”

Stiles eye roll was almost audible, “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

A silence settled over them because Derek _did_ know what he meant, he just wasn’t sure how to respond. Then Stiles is speaking again, soft unsure, though his heartbeat is steady, calm, like Derek’s never heard it be before.

“I used to miss you so much that I couldn’t breath,” Stiles knows Derek hears the uptake in the beat of his heart, so he amends his statement, and continues on. “Okay so I still miss you so much that I can’t breath Derek. I try not to think about it, try to push it away, because I shouldn’t miss you. I _shouldn’t_ , but I do, and it hurts. I try to swallow back the tears, but they burn in my stomach and I still can’t fucking breath.”

Derek doesn’t say anything and Stiles is grateful, because he is tired. He’s tired of being here, of yelling at Derek, of feeling _whatever_ it is he’s feeling, he can’t seem to put a name on it and that frustrates him more than anything. And yet, there, in the back of his throat, threatening to come out without his permission, is a question he never wanted to ask. He didn’t want to know the answer, didn’t think he could stand to hear the answer.

He wants to tell Derek he’s leaving, wants to say bye, and just leave things where they are, but he’s speaking and his voice is betraying the words he wants to say.

“Why did you leave,” and he sounds so broken, so fragile, it actually shocks him and he jerks, falling off the swing.

Derek’s answering, unfazed by what just happened, eyes on Stiles with a sadness he’s only ever seen in his own eyes.

“Because you could’ve loved me forever, and maybe in another universe I would’ve let you.”

Stiles chokes on his words because they hurt more than the _I didn’t love you_ he was expecting.

“Why was it such a bad thing that I loved you?” He sees Derek go to answer but he’s shaking his head, and pulling himself off of his ass, his body shaking with fury. “No, don’t answer that. Not if the next words out of your mouth are that I deserved better.”

Derek clamps his mouth shut and Stiles deflates, he was so tired of people telling him what he deserved. All Scott’s done the last few weeks is tell Stiles that he deserves better, deserves more, than whatever Derek can offer him and he’s just so tired.

There are so many things he wants to say. He wants to tell Derek he’s an idiot, wants to tell him he stills loves him, tell him he forgives him, tell him all the things he’s missed. He wants to tell him that _Allison_ is going to propose to Isaac because, in Lydia’s words, _fuck the patriarchy_. He wants to tell him about Allison’s dad and Melissa, wants to tell him how much he loves him despite everything, and how he’s willing to try, for him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice catches in his throat. He closes his mouth, in a grim straight line, takes a deep breath, and with a sad smile says, “another universe huh?”

“Uh I mean,” Derek rubs his hand against the back of his neck, and drops his eyes down to the ground, “back then, that’s what I told myself. That this wasn’t a universe where I got you, where I got my happy ending.”

“What about my happy ending Derek? Didn’t I deserve it?”

“Yes of course you did! I just told myself that you could have it without me.”

Stiles plops himself back down on the swing, “these are the kinds of things you talk to people about Derek. You should've talked to me.”

Derek makes a frustrated sound and Stiles looks over at him, watching as he stood up from his own swing. He watched as he started pacing, running a hand through his already messy hair. He watched as he stopped and faced him, a conflicted look covering his features.

“I know that now Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, just continues to watch him because he looks like he wants to say more. He gives Derek a small, barely noticeable, nod of encouragement.

“When we first left they kept trying to convince me to call you and talk to you and that always just ended in wherever we were staying at the moment being completely trashed. I, uh, it took me a while to be able to talk about you to, uh, even to be able to hear your name,” Derek just kinda gestures in front of him before letting his hands fall to his sides.

Stiles raises one eyebrow, motioning for him to further explain. Derek’s heartbeat was erratic, reminding Stiles of his own.

“It’s just that uh, I mean, I knew that I had fucked up, you know? And I just,” Derek struggled to find the words, he had gotten better at talking, but sometimes words still escaped him. He just didn’t know _what_ to say.

“Uh, no one said your name around me until you showed back up,” Stiles’ voice was small, hesitant. “I mean I knew they talked about you, I mean like, I knew Allison and Isaac talked about you at least. Like, Allison would fill in Lydia because uh, she was curious, wanted you to be fine I guess? But like if I was ever in the room they shut down the conversation like I don’t have werewolf hearing? I just think after so long of being a human they forget that I’m now one of them? I uh dunno, anyway. I guess it’s just hard to stop caring about someone, even when you want to. I mean Scott’s acting like he doesn’t, I mean I know he does but he’s more concerned about me so he puts on this face like you leaving doesn’t affect him and when Allison tells him you’re fine he just like shrugs it off but I know he’s relieved. But I think they expected me to like, break or something, because I never did. Not after the first night, or rather uh not after I died. I don’t like to say that I killed myself because uh, that was a low point and I don’t like to dwell on it so we just say that I died and we don’t mention you.”

Derek’s eyes never once leave Stiles’ during his little rant, wondering why Stiles was doing him this favor, why Stiles was willing to be the one awkwardly fumbling over their words instead of just letting Derek struggle.

Derek doesn’t really understand half the stuff Stiles does, never has. But it’s just so perfectly Stiles that Derek feels himself leaning in.

Stiles freezes once he realizes that Derek has invaded his personal bubble, but he doesn’t move. He watches with wide hesitant eyes as Derek brings his face closer to Stiles.

Derek softly brushes his lips against Stiles, and not even a millisecond later Stiles is flinging himself backwards, shoving Derek way from him.

“I have to..” Stiles doesn’t even finish what he’s saying before he takes off running in the opposite direction.


	6. Moving forward

It took Derek a couple of days to work up the courage to even think about facing Stiles again. And then it takes another two days to actually make his way over to the house.

When he gets there Scott is already outside like he’d be expecting him. Which shouldn’t really surprise Derek when he considers the state that Stiles probably came home in after their meeting in the park.

“Figured you’d show back up eventually,” Scott’s voice isn’t angry like he had been expecting. It is soft, unsure.

“And you’re out here to stop me from entering?” Derek raises an eyebrow, his tone just as soft as Scott’s.

Scott raises one shoulder, “if that’s what it comes down to. Then yeah.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to say, not to Scott. He didn’t have this issue with Stiles because Stiles barely let him get a word in edgewise. But Scott, Scott was looking at him like he was expecting him to say something and Derek’s mind had gone completely blank.

“I Uh, I’m sorry I left.”

“I don’t need an apology from you. Nor do I want one,” Scott crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at Derek as if to say ‘anything else?’

“I just came to Uh, to talk to Stiles.”

“I know why you’re here.”

Derek nodded. Of course Scott knew why he was here. The whole damn pack probably knows why he’s here.

“Why’d you kiss him?”

Derek groans, “I don’t know. He was there, and I _wanted_ to okay?”

“No, that’s not okay.” Derek saw Scott’s eyes flash before he smelt the anger rolling off of him. “You don’t get to do this.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Stiles is ready to forgive you, to give you another chance. Even though he is scared out of his mind of what that could do to him, he wants to give you another chance. He didn’t come to that decision by himself.”

Derek can’t hide the surprise on his face because nothing Stiles has said to him over the course of the past few weeks pointed in that direction.

“I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to let you hurt him again.”

“I’m not going to hurt him!”

Scott scoffed at that, the disgust filling his eyes leaving an unsettling feeling in Derek’s stomach.

“Yeah, you said that last time too.”

And that hits Derek like a punch in the gut.

“Scott.. I..”

“No Derek I don’t want to hear it. You left and you destroyed him and the pack. We almost lost him right after we had just lost John and you and Boyd and Erica and it was all too much for everyone. The pack bonds almost broke and we were all in the same fucking room Derek but we had all lost so much that it was too big of a strain on the bond and we all felt it as we sat in your old basement helping Stiles through his transformation. You have no idea how angry he was at us for saving his life, he wanted to die and we had to keep him chained up for a week after I saved his life because he just kept trying to kill himself. You walked out and caused that and you don’t get to come back into his life ever.”

Scott’s voice was shaking and Derek could feel the tears in his own eyes and he felt like he was going to throw up.

“I’m sorry Scott. There’s nothing else I can say. I am sorry and I love him. I know it was selfish of me to walk out, and that nothing I can do will fix it. But I _love_ him.”

“And he loved you! Look where that got him Derek. You don’t get to take someone’s love and toss it to the side and expect it to be there waiting for you when you decide to come back!”

“I didn’t expect it to waiting for me! I never expected to see him again! But I did see him Scott! And I was terrified of seeing him and getting to know him again and I wasn't going to say anything to him, but he came to me. Not the other way around. And then we just just kept bumping into each other.”

“You came here-“

“Yeah, I came here like three weeks after I first saw him again. I just wanted to try to make things right Scott!”

“Well you can’t!”

Derek was aware of their rising voices and the fact that they kept inching closer to each other but he was letting his anger wash over him and couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

“So what I’m just not supposed to try?”

“Yeah, exactly that!”

Scott now has a clawed finger poking Derek in the chest and his eyes were flashing red but Derek wasn’t baking down.

“Fuck that, no fuck you Scott! You don’t get to decide Stiles’ life for him! If he decides to forgive me- which would be a goddamn miracle by the way- but if he does, that’s his decision. His. And if you want to forgive me or not, that’s your decision! And the same with the rest of the pack! I’m not trying to pretend I never did anything at all, or act like the passage of time has made it all okay. I know it’s not okay and I know you guys aren’t okay with what I did and how things transpired but I missed you guys okay! I really did, and it sucked knowing that I could never come back to it. But now I have that chance and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take it!”

“We don’t want you back!”

It all happens so fast Derek doesn’t even register that anything has actually happened before Scott is pulled off of him. He vaguely registers the blood running down his face but when he feels his head for any damage but it’s already healed.

He brings himself into a sitting position and find the whole pack in the yard and Scott still transformed into his beta form.

“What the hell is going on?” Derek didn’t even realize that Stiles was kneeled down next to him, his hand resting on Derek’s arm.

“Uh, we were arguing?” Derek’s voice is more unsure than he had wanted it to and Stiles let out a low chuckle.

“Yeah no, we heard that. Care to share why you decided to come face off with our Alpha?”

“I just wanted to see you.. after..” Derek trails off, not entirely sure what to call it.

“So you waited four whole days to come talk to me?”

Derek lifts one shoulder in a half shrug, “I had to work up the courage first.”

Stiles let out deep breath and looked away from Derek to where the rest of the pack was gathered. It was silent for a minute and then Derek saw Lydia give a slight nod and felt Stiles let out a slight sigh of relief.

“Let’s go inside and talk. We have a room where they can’t listen in with their wolfy ears.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Scott,” Stiles tone was dangerous, one Derek recognizes from years ago, back when Stiles was still human and immune to Scott’s alpha voice.

Scott let out out warning growl and Stiles leveled him with a look. The pack back off as the two faced off.

Derek could feel the tension in the air, and he wanted nothing more than to escape with the pack. One look from Lydia, though, and he knew that was a bad idea.

So instead he stayed put as Stiles dragged Scott off somewhere inside the house and Lydia gave him a small smile.

Once the dust had settled and Scott agreed to give them some semblance of privacy, Derek falls against Stiles. He takes in a deep breath because _fuck_ he used to not be able to do that.

For a long time neither of them say anything, and then Derek ask a question that’s been burning inside of him since first saw Stiles across the busy LA street.

“Have you moved on?” And he chokes on the words because, _fuck_ he doesn’t want the answer but now it’s hanging out in the air between them.

He watches as Stiles contemplates what he says and braces himself for whatever comes.

“Uh, I.. I don’t know,” Stiles voice is soft, honest. “Things have changed, you know they’ve changed.”

Derek nods because yes, everything has fucking changed and it’s all his fault. He doesn’t know what to do about, he knows he can’t fix it but wants to find a way _around_ it.

“It’s been uh three years,” and Stiles lets out a laugh because they both know how fucking long it’s been. “I don’t think about you when I’m researching some new mythological creature or how you feel so warm, so safe after a fight.”

Stiles falters for a second and Derek knows he’s thinking about exactly that, allowing himself to remember it in this one vulnerable moment.

“It’s uh, mainly on the bad days. When I’m feeling particularly dirty or guilty, or when the nemeton feels like it’s creeping back up,” and Stiles shudders at that and Derek breaks because he hates that a fucking tree has this much power over Stiles. “You’re the person I automatically go to when these things happen. And uh I think that I have kind of trained myself to do that, because you were always the best at keeping me grounded, you know?”

Derek just nods, he’s kind of afraid to speak. He doesn’t want to break this feeling that has settled over them in the wake of Stiles’ soft voice floating around the room.

“But I can’t keep doing that anymore, I have to stop,” and Stiles is shaking his head. “It’s just not fair.”

Derek is confused at this, he cocks his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s not fair?”

“This, us,” Stiles is gesturing between them. “The fact that when I need someone to fall back on its you. It’s always you.”

“Even if I’m not here.”

And Stiles is nodding and Derek wants to just grab him and hold him because _fuck_ he’s really done a number on him.

But Stiles is speaking again and Derek needs to pay attention to what he’s saying so he keep his hands to himself.

“We can’t do this Derek, we can’t go back.”

“We can go forward,” and Stiles is on his feet, as far away from Derek as he can be. His eyes are wide and frantic and he is shaking his head.

“I.. we can’t..” Stiles is stumbling over his words, trying to make a sentence form. He takes a deep breath and tries again, “how can we move forward?”

Derek sighs, “I don’t want to push you into anything Stiles. But uh we start with trust,” Derek is wringing his hands because he really wants Stiles to agree to this. “We’re not anything to each other, we’re barely even friends.”

“That sounds a lot like going back,” Stiles is speaking before he can finish his thought and he’s running his hands through his hair.

“Fuck Stiles, just listen,” Stiles doesn’t say anything so he continues. “What I’m saying is that I don’t have to mean anything to you if you don’t want me too. A couple of weeks ago you said something about how I was there, even when you didn’t want me to be, even when we hated each other.”

Derek stops then because _fuck_ there was a time he hated Stiles and he doesn’t understand how. He continues on pushing that thought out of his head.

“I just sort of figured if you didn’t want me to mean anything to you again, if you want to continue to hate me then that’s fine, but I’m going to be here Stiles. I won’t leave.”

“Until it gets too much,” and really Derek can’t blame him but fuck the betrayal in his voice fucking hurts.

“No, especially when it gets too much. I love you Stiles and I’m not running from that anymore.”

Stiles just nods, but doesn’t say anything for a scarily long time. Derek starts to panic because _fuck_ Stiles is going to throw him out anyway and he meant what he said but he just wants Stiles to agree.

Suddenly Stiles is on the floor next to him again and he takes his hand in his. He still doesn’t say anything but it’s enough.

 


	7. THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER

How many of you would like a sequel where it starts off around the time Derek leaves and everything that happens following and then it would jump to the future for the last couple of chapters to take a look at how they’re re-figuring each other out and making it work?

 

if that’s something anybody would be interested in, please leave a comment below to let me know!

 

thank you all so much. I’m glad you enjoyed my story 


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